


The Sins of the Pure

by Moxiethesimplenerd



Category: Angels and Demons AU - Fandom
Genre: Basically this is where her morality started to go downhill, Gen, It's not really graphic tho, Once again this is back when she was just 'Tabbris', There is death in here so be careful, This is notably darker than my last work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 14:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moxiethesimplenerd/pseuds/Moxiethesimplenerd
Summary: She never did regret it, though she should've.But, what's purity without sin? Worthless. With no opposite, it cannot be held at the high standard it has.And they do say that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.





	The Sins of the Pure

This was wrong.

So very, very wrong.

And she knew it.

Every single part of what she was about to do was downright _ sinful _ , and she was well aware of it. Every part of her being shouted at her to abandon the efforts while she still could, and yet she continued, even as her hand burned from drawing the symbol of the very place she was _ created _ to oppose- a pentagram. 

As she lit the candles that had been positioned with such detail and care, she continued to tell herself that this was for the good of many, even if the deed itself would be immoral, and that while she would likely be punished for this, it simply had to be done. If she had to be the one to do it, well, better to cast herself into the fire that leave it be to scorch somebody else. Sacrificing oneself is a noble act, is it not? A sign of bravery and devotion? Had God themselves not asked Abraham to slaughter his only son in the name of the Lord? 

She’ll never admit it now, but she knew the entire time that her reasoning behind all of this was strictly personal. No matter how many times she told herself it was for the virtues and ideals of Heaven, a small part of her always knew this was only for her own emotional benefit; for revenge on something that had wronged her only by existing. 

Momentarily casting her thoughts aside, she gripped her sword in one hand, and opened a notebook filled with hurriedly scrawled Latin in the other. The writing wasn’t sloppy per say, but just like the pentagram, every letter written had burned her hand, thus causing her to rush in an attempt to get it over with, so as to not abandon her efforts as a way to avoid the pain. As she read over, she flipped between pages to ensure she knew the correct pronunciation for each word- any mistake, no matter how small, could prove to be disastrous. The delicate nature with which the words had to be spoken didn’t even allow her to attempt to practice aloud, and so she ran them through her mind continuously for an amount of time that any mortal would’ve found ridiculously long. Naturally, given that she was not mortal, the time didn’t bother her in the least. After all, she’d already been around for a couple hundred years. What was a half hour to someone who couldn’t die of age?

Once fully sure she would say them correctly, she spoke the words quietly yet more clearly than any previous statements she’d uttered in her life, ignoring how each syllable tried to lodge itself in her throat, not allowing it to hinder her. Just as planned, there was a brief column of flame before her target appeared, confused and not facing her, sitting on the ground as if some sort of rest had been interrupted. They turned to face her when she set down her book, and fear filled their eyes when they noticed the blade that loomed over them.

Without a second thought, the sword was brought down, and it was over in an instant. 

As the demon’s corpse slumped down, the sword was also dropped from the grasp of the killer. She took a moment to assess herself and make sure her victim hadn’t attempted some sort of retaliation, and realized she was shaking. When had that started? _ Why _ had it started? Was she frightened? Was it the adrenaline? No matter what the cause was, it happened all the same, and she took a moment to compose herself before looking over the scene once more, the pentagram so carefully drawn now stained with the evidence of the deed she’d committed. 

Gathering her things back up, she asked herself a simple question as she took her leave.

_ What have I done? _


End file.
